Grandma died this morning at about 6 am. She was my last surviving grandparent - I lost the others a long time ago (two before I was old enough to remember them at all).
I miss her a little, but I feel that we shouldn't be mourning a life of almost eighty years now ended. It was her time, and that's all. I know my parents will be mourning, but I celebrate that up until the last few weeks she wasn't in the hospital, she was laughing at Thanksgiving and sounded like she was still smiling the last time I talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago. I'm glad the last time I saw my grandmother she wasn't in the hospital and deathly ill, because now I can remember her the way she'd want to be remembered - among family and friends, the spirited woman who told me stories about learning to fly a plane and her crush on the instructor. I think if I'd been around when she was young we might have been friends. As it is, I didn't know her as well as I wanted to. But no time for regret now. She knew I loved her.
I'll probably be missing class for a few days to attend the funeral. We'll see what happens.